


In Love and War

by MirrorMystic



Series: Facets [2]
Category: Final Fantasy Tactics A2: Grimoire of the Rift, Final Fantasy XII, Final Fantasy XIV, Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/F, Ivalice (Ivalice Alliance), Rough Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:21:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22055473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorMystic/pseuds/MirrorMystic
Summary: "So, listen to this: a former hitman turned paladin walks into a bar..."
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Series: Facets [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587475
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	In Love and War

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to "Facets", an original story set within the world of Ivalice! This is just a small taste of the characters, the setting, and a bit of backstory. I hope you enjoy meeting Grey, Kisha, and Mika-- and I hope you'll look forward to seeing them again soon!

~*~   
  
“Eyes up, sister,” Kisha muttered with a smile. “Here comes trouble…”   
  
It was a busy day in the All’s Fair, Prism City’s finest tavern. A week-long conference, starting that evening, was going to finally bring a formal end to The Long War. The whole city was abuzz. History was in the making, and all those ambassadors and their retinues needed to be fed, supplied, and… serviced.    
  
But the figure that lingered in the doorway stood out from the crowd. In a sea of vibrant color, every delegate proudly wearing their clan colors and allegiances quite literally on their sleeves, there stood someone loyal to one thing above all. A lithe woman with gaunt features and a piercing stare, in the pale, hooded robe of the paladin order.    
  
“Well, now…” Mika purred, a thoughtful hand to her chin. “...that’s an interesting sight…”   
  
“Alright, place your bets,” Kisha grinned. She leaned forward over the bar counter, showing off her impressive chest and ample cleavage, the neckline of her striking crimson dress carefully calculated to maximize tips. “Do you think she’s here to secretly indulge some pleasures of the flesh? Or is she here to save our souls from our sinful, decadent lives?”   
  
“She  _ could _ just be here for a drink,” Mika offered.    
  
“Maybe,” Kisha smiled, tugging down her neckline. “Why don’t I go find out?”   
  
“Nuh-uh. No way,” Mika protested, licking her lips. “This one’s mine.”   
  
“The new girl, not wasting any time,” Kisha nodded her approval. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”   
  
~*~   
  
Grey swore she only walked into the tavern by accident.    
  
Look, she didn’t mean to get into her cups. She knew she was supposed to be looking for work. She hadn’t taken a contract in a month. The coin purse on her belt was feeling light, and getting lighter every day. The moment was fast approaching when the entirety of her net worth would be invested in her swords.    
  
Not like that would be anything new.    
  
A woman came sashaying through her crowd, her tail flitting as her hips swayed to an imaginary beat. Grey raised and eyebrow, and looked up to find a miqo’te smiling down at her. Petite, dark hair, dark fur. Pretty little thing.    
  
“Welcome to the All’s Fair, ser,” she cooed. “Can I offer you tea? Ale? Something stronger? Or maybe even something off our special menu…?”   
  
Grey thought, momentarily, of how tight her budget was getting. Those thoughts abruptly made way for how tight the miqo’te’s dress was on her slim, lithe figure. How her dress was dark as night, but cut through with shimmering gold thread. How her hair was pinned up in an elaborate silver headdress, strung with glittering crystal beads. How the gold in her dress and the silver in her hair shone like stars in the tavern’s smoky half-light, but none so brightly as her own gorgeous amber eyes.    
  
Grey blew out a breath. Her lips curled into a playful smile.    
  
“How, uh… how ‘special’ are we talking…?”   
  
Mika grinned a wild grin and snatched Grey’s hand, pulling her out of her chair. She ushered her to the stairwell behind the bar, with flights leading up and below. Grey glanced curiously to the stairs below, catching a glimpse of armed guards and a sturdy metal door, but Mika caught her chin with a well-manicured finger and turned her head towards her prize.    
  
Mika led Grey upstairs, her tail curling coquettishly around Grey’s wrist, Grey’s arm snaking around the small of her back. Halfway up the steps, the creaking bare wood made way for a plush red carpet. A long corridor stretched out before them, magicked glow-globes casting the hall in a sultry crimson and gold.    
  
Mika pulled Grey into the first open door and kicked it shut behind them. As the door shut, runes flickered across the doorframe, and an hourglass on a low table beside the door began to count down.    
  
Grey didn’t waste any time. She captured Mika’s lips in a rough, hungry kiss. Mika melted into the kiss, shivering with delight as her back pressed into the wall. The shiver turned into a scandalized gasp as Grey’s kiss gained teeth, nipping at Mika’s lower lip hard enough to draw blood.    
  
“Sorry,” Grey sheepishly mumbled into Mika’s mouth.    
  
“Don’t apologize,” Mika growled, yanking her into another kiss.    
  
Roving hands wandered across taut muscle, thrumming with kinetic heat, and clutched in frustration at the layers of fabric between them. Grey hoisted up Mika’s leg, reached down and tugged at the straps of her sandals. One thumped to the floor, then the other, and Mika coiled her leg around Grey’s waist, pulling her tighter--   
  
Something was in the way. She let out a frustrated whine, her hands searching. She pulled open the powder-blue sash cinched tight around Grey’s waist. She pressed one palm flat against Grey’s toned core, admiring the tightness of the muscle beneath, while her free hand plucked at Grey’s belt buckles. A pair of sheathed swords hit the floor with a thump.    
  
Mika pulled down Grey’s hood, revealing her short, choppy black hair, her gaunt, hawklike features, her stormy eyes that matched her name. Mika let out a shuddering gasp.    
  
“You’re so…  _ handsome _ ,” she breathed.    
  
Grey just smiled, and captured her lips once more.    
  
Mika slid Grey’s outer robe from her shoulders. It wasn’t the stark, snow-white she’d expected of the paladin order; rather, it was a soft, subdued dove-gray. It fell to the floor, revealing not layered monastic robes but sensible fighting leathers.    
  
Grey pushed Mika against the wall, grinning wildly as their lips met again. Mika moaned into Grey’s mouth, shuddering in her embrace. She lifted first one leg, then the other, and curled them tight around Grey’s waist, letting the taller woman pin her against the wall.    
  
It was just a job, Mika knew. No need to over-think it. But she still found herself melting into Grey’s arms, mewling into every kiss. An electrical thrill began in her lips and traveled up her jaw, across the back of her neck and pooled at the base of her spine. Stranger or not, Grey was a damn fine kisser. Each kiss was electrifying, intoxicating…   
  
They parted with a gasp. Their eyes met for a smoky moment, warm amber and stormy gray. Then Grey’s arms locked tight around Mika’s waist and Grey carried her away from the wall, throwing her down onto the bed. Her back hit the sheets with a whine, and she gazed up at Grey, breathless with arousal, her chest heaving, her whole body on fire, her ears and her tail twitching with anticipation.    
  
Grey kicked off her boots. She tossed aside her leather jerkin, the tunic beneath, and, finally, her thin cotton shift.    
  
Mika gazed in adoration up at Grey’s fine, lean figure, honed by a lifetime of struggle. And then she saw it: a crow, inked on Grey’s chest, its unfurled wings tracing the underside of her breasts.    
  
Mika’s eyes flitted from the tattoo up to Grey’s eyes, heavy-lidded with lust.    
  
“Fuck me,” she breathed.    
  
Grey dove for her on the bed, their lips crashing together. Grey clutched Mika’s dress in her hands, balling it up at her waist, her fingers teasing the hem of her stockings before wandering towards the radiant heat between her legs…   
  
Mika’s legs locked tight around Grey’s waist and she rolled them over, straddling Grey’s hips. She twined her fingers with Grey’s, pushing her hands above her head…   
  
Grey felt it. A twitch, a tell, the shift in Mika’s body, the rush of the air--   
  
Grey jerked aside. Something plunged into the pillow beside her head.    
  
Mika yanked the sharpened hairpin out of the pillow and stabbed her again.    
  
Grey caught her wrist, and cracked her skull into hers. Mika cried out, reeling from the headbutt, and Grey rolled her off the bed.    
  
Grey sprang up, hunting for her weapons belts scattered on the floor with the rest of her clothes. She dove for her swords, reaching out--   
  
A trio of thrown needles flashed past and she jerked her hand back in alarm, the darts sticking fast in the carpet. Mika drew another fistful of darts from her elaborate headdress and threw them like knives. Grey ducked, the needles thudding into the wall behind her, only for Mika to pounce over the bed and throw her off her feet.    
  
They rolled across the floor, a macabre take on two lovers tumbling. Mika’s silver hairpin flashed like lightning in her hands. Grey caught her wrist, but Mika caught her by the throat and shoved her down. Grey’s head hit the floorboards with a crack, and she hissed in pain, Mika’s nimble fingers drawing tight around her throat.    
  
“Listen. It’s nothing personal, right? And you’re a great kisser. But a job’s a job. And this one’s gonna earn me a place in the Khamja Syndicate. I’ll be set for life.”   
  
“You’re making a mistake,” Grey choked out.    
  
A flicker of… something passed across Mika’s eyes. Her sharpened silver hairpin, brandished like a dagger, twitched in her hands.    
  
“...Probably,” Mika whispered.    
  
Mika lunged. Grey caught her by the throat and pulled her into a kiss.    
  
Mika froze, bewildered.   
  
Then Grey stunned her with a headbutt, plucked the silver hairpin from her fingers, and plunged it into Mika’s neck.    
  
Mika’s eyes went wide with terror. As Grey pulled the hairpin away, Mika clutched at the wound with shaking fingers. The pin was too narrow for Mika to be so deathly afraid of a stab wound, but the stricken look in her eyes said it all: poison.    
  
“Oh gods…” Mika whimpered, her eyes welling with tears. “...oh gods, oh  _ gods _ …”   
  
Grey cradled her in her arms, holding her with surprising tenderness for a girl who’d just tried to kill her.    
  
“Shh,” Grey whispered, reverent. “It will all be over soon.”   
  
~*~   
  
Warmth. Light. Not the crimson and gold of the brothel, but something else. Something peaceful.    
  
Mika woke up. She was in bed, the covers pulled up to her neck, dressed only in her stockings and smallclothes. Her dress was neatly folded on the nightstand. The pinprick on her throat was wrapped with a strip of soft, dove-gray cloth.    
  
Mika sat up. The curtains were open, letting in the sun. It was amazing how different the All’s Fair looked, without the glow-globes and the rose curtains. Like seeing the world in a whole new light.    
  
“That was smart.”   
  
Grey was sitting at the foot of the bed, fully dressed, save that her hood was down. In the sunlight streaming through the window, her dove-gray robes shone white.    
  
“That was smart,” she repeated. “Getting in with the tavern staff. Every traveler has to stop at a tavern eventually. You’d spot me, even on the move. Wait until you get me undressed. No armor. No weapons. No tricks up my sleeves. That was smart.”   
  
Mika stared at her. She reached up to the pinprick at her neck.    
  
“How… how am I still alive?” she wondered. “That was nightshade venom, that should have--”   
  
Grey held up Mika’s silver hairpin, and the thin glass vial she’d removed from its handle before stabbing Mika in the throat.    
  
“Poisoned hairpin,” Grey said knowingly. “Classic. I cut my hair after I ran. Can’t pull that trick anymore, myself.”   
  
“You were bluffing?” Mika blinked. “But then… why did I pass out?”   
  
Grey wiped a finger across her lips and held it up to the light. A thin sheen of oil glistened on her fingertip.    
  
“Griproot oil,” Grey explained. “Not nearly as potent as the powdered stuff. Against skin, all it does is get you a little tingly. To really do its magic, it’s got to get into the blood.”   
  
Mika reflexively touched her lip, split open by a love bite. She stared down at the floorboards.   
  
“...They told me you were one of the best. Their most feared. But now that I see you… I don’t know. What kind of killer are you?”   
  
“Don’t let the robe fool you. I’m still a killer.” Grey replied. “I just decided I’d save my killing for people who deserved it, and not just the people who get in Khamja’s way.”   
  
“So you… what? Cut ties? Found religion?”   
  
“I found a thrift store robe and a halfway decent cover story, if that’s what you’re asking,” Grey said dryly. “No, I didn’t ‘find religion’. But I found a new start. More or less. You?”   
  
Mika raised and lowered one shoulder. A half-hearted shrug. “I was an orphan. I grew up on the street. There were things that I wanted, and there were things I was good at. I guess I could’ve gone to the Hunter’s Guild, made a living as a merc. But the Syndicate has all the real money.”   
  
“I was a street kid, too,” Grey nodded in sympathy. “I know what it’s like to be poor. To want nice clothes, a nice house. To never be hungry again. But the Syndicate takes so much more than it gives. Once you start taking their money, there’s no going back. You have to get out while you can. Trust me, hon. It’s too late for me. But it’s not too late for you.”   
  
“They’ll kill you,” Mika murmured, somber.    
  
“Yeah. Probably,” Grey shrugged. “Eventually. But I intend to make a difference before they do.”   
  
A solemn quiet descended between them. Eventually, Grey spoke up.    
  
“What’s your name?”   
  
“Whisper.”   
  
Grey smiled. “Your  _ real _ name.”   
  
“...Mika,” she admitted. “Yours?”   
  
“Grace.”   
  
The weight of that word washed over Mika like a tidal wave. She shuddered, tears in her eyes, before leaning forward and pulling Grey into one last kiss. Their lips met, so unlike their previous passion. It exchanged a host of feeling in a single gesture: remorse. Sympathy. Gratitude.    
  
It connected them. But more than the kiss, what connected them in that moment was something far more important: a moment of vulnerability, of intimacy on a level far deeper than flesh.   
  
For one precious moment, Grey had held Mika’s life in her hands.   
  
And here Mika was, still alive, though she could hardly believe it herself.    
  
They parted, Mika’s fingers lingering on Grey’s cheek, Grey brushing past Mika’s ears and making them twitch at her touch.    
  
“...You know, the griproot’s just going to put you out again,” Grey said, playful.    
  
“That’s alright,” Mika smiled. “This already feels like a dream.”   
  
Grey glanced to the magicked hourglass on the table by the door, the last few streams of sand trickling into the bottom. She took a deep breath, sighed, and got to her feet. She pulled her coin purse from her belt and started counting out coins into a neat stack of gil.    
  
“You don’t have to,” Mika protested. “I mean, I’m not really a--”   
  
“I know,” Grey said gently. She clicked the coins down on the nightstand. “Good luck.”   
  
~*~   
  
Kisha flitted up the stairs, a sword hefted over her shoulder. One of the hourglasses had timed out upstairs, but Mika hadn’t checked back in. That, and there had been reports of suspicious noises coming from upstairs. Granted, such reports weren’t uncommon, especially with certain clients who liked to play rough. But it never hurt to check…   
  
Grey opened the door just as Kisha was about to reach for the knob. Kisha caught a glimpse of Mika, passed out in bed with a blissful smile on her face, just before Grey pulled the door shut.    
  
“Oh! Hello, ser!” Kisha chirped, much more at ease than she was a moment ago. “Did you find everything to your, ah, satisfaction?”   
  
“Oh, yes,” Grey smiled. “Thank you very much.”   
  
“Mika’s only been here a week. I hope you treated her right,” Kisha warned.    
  
“I did,” Grey’s smile grew sheepish. “But, ah, I wouldn’t go in there if I were you. We, uh… we made a mess.”   
  
Kisha barked out a raunchy laugh. She pulled her sheathed sword from her shoulder and planted it on the ground, a hand on her hip.    
  
“‘Made a mess’, she says!” Kisha laughed. “What kind of paladin  _ are _ you?”   
  
Grey grinned.    
  
“One of a kind.”   
  
Kisha gave Grey a hearty clap on the back before turning and checking on Mika. She’d go inside, to see Mika’s dress neatly folded on the nightstand and her many hairpins organized beside it, with Mika herself primly tucked into bed-- and would have a good laugh about  _ this _ being what a paladin considered ‘making a mess’.    
  
Grey moved through the crowd of colors bustling through the tavern, her namesake gray making her stand out from the crowd. She was a blank slate-- not quite fresh, not quite unscathed. A new start, if not a clean one.    
  
Upstairs, Kisha was nudging Mika awake and urging her to tell her all about that rarest of clients: a handsome lady paladin who was also a  _ very _ generous tipper.    
  
Grey pushed through the All’s Fair’s bustling evening rush, her coin purse and her heart just a little bit lighter. She pulled up her hood, and she was gone.    
  
~*~


End file.
